


the sounds of yesterday

by sheHalcyon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Identity Reveal, this hurt me physically to write goodbye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheHalcyon/pseuds/sheHalcyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They fell in love on a fall Tuesday and the rest, as they say, was history. For months, it was perfect: long romantic walks by the Louvre, shopping in the 13th district, idyllic, coffee dates on the Champs-Élysées,  small, stolen kisses by the River Seine. High school sweethearts, at last. But one day, under a cold, uncharacteristic spring rain in front of the school, Marinette breaks up with Adrien, knowing that for once, she couldn't be selfish. For once, she had to put Paris first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His smiles. His warm gaze. His unique scent that she'd grown to love -- the musky smell of Parisan smoke, caramel, crisp leaves, and sometimes, strangely enough, Camembert cheese. She had giggled the first time they had been lying next to each other on her bed and a few crumbles of the cheese had fallen out of his shirt pocket and onto her bangs. He had flushed, brushing it off, saying it was a guilty pleasure.
> 
> "Smells like dead feet," she'd said, biting into a small piece and making a face.
> 
> "Sorry I smell like dead feet," he pouted a little.
> 
> "I love the smell of dead feet," she said. And he tucked a strand of her hair aside, tilted her head up, and kissed her for the first time.

Had it really been a month since she'd broken up with Adrien? _Time dwindles when you're trying to forget._

It's not like they weren't still friends. Or at the very least, acquainted. A casual nod when passing by in the halls, a smile and a wave when they had shared classes. Sometimes they'd even make small talk: I'm not sure if I analyzed the last passage correctly, will Mme. Lefevre curve the physics final, how's your weekend, today's great weather, perfect for strolling by the Marais. Sometimes he'd make a terrible pun and they'd both laugh. But more often than not, especially at the beginning, both of them would fall silent after a few minutes and turn away in their seats, remembering the tender, intimate moments they'd once shared together.

Sometimes she'd see Chloe cozying up to him, his green eyes somehow always finding her in the room, as if checking on her. And Marinette would jerk her head away, apoplectic, frustrated at herself for even caring. It wasn't her business what Adrien did with anyone. Not anymore. But she knew her hurt expression wasn't lost on him. He'd shrug away from Chloe's vice-like grip and resume working on homework, or start a conversation with Nino. That was him. Adrien Agreste, teen celebrity, and the gentlest, sweetest, and most perfect boy in Paris. And she had broken his heart. Added another scar to his already scarred heart.

It wasn't that she didn't love him anymore. The thought of him still brought shivers to her spine, the familiar echo of her heart thudding to a stop, the crimson flush his gaze would command from her. No one would be able to make her feel this way, ever again. Her first love. Her only love. The way he'd smile and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear before tilting her chin up and kissing her. How he whispered how beautiful she was, her freckles like sprinkled spots on a ladybug.

The six months she spent with him was like a dream.

Asking him out, however, was not. They had just started their junior year of high school and maybe it was the sleep deprivation and exhaustion of just having fought three angry sharp-heeled akumas conjured from a gang of rejected Paris Opera ballet students, she had tripped head first into his lap when they were both running up the stairs to class, late.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Marinette squealed, sitting up. She was about to stand up and stretch out a hand to whomever she had tripped over when she realized it was Adrien Agreste. The, you know, boy she had been madly crushing on for, I don't know, three years. And she was sitting on his chest, dirt all over his crisp white shirt.

"I'm fine," said Adrien, brushing off the dirt, a smudge still on his cheek as Marinette jumped up and scooted further down the steps. "Are you all right, Marinette?"

"Oh my g-gosh," stuttered Marinette. She stepped back ten paces. "A-Adrien, I-I-I'm sorry so! I mean so sorry! I know I'm heavy, I mean, I don't mean that you're not strong enough to carry me, oh God, but I don't mean that you would carry me I just mean -- "

Adrien furrowed his brows. "Don't worry about it, Marinette." He stood up and started running towards the door.

"Do you want to go to the movies with me tomorrow?"

Adrien stopped abruptly, then openly stared at her. Marinette's cheeks were the color of a ripe tomato that was, well, still ripening. She had been preparing to ask him out for the last three years and she had just blurted the offensive line out now, with such impeccable timing, after she had just sat on his chest and dirtied his brand name Gabriel Agreste™ shirt. _Great job, Marinette_ , she thought, flushing. _Cat's out of the bag now. Why don't you just, I don't know, throw up all over him too while you're at it?_

"Like a, a, group. With me and Alya. And Nino, if he's f-free. I j-just h-h-have tickets from my Auntie, you know, the wife of Cheng Shifu? S-she's a producer for one of the movies out right now and she g-g-gave me tickets. And they expire tomorrow, F-Friday you know, and, I just." Her voice became small. "If you want to. I mean--"

"I'd love to go to the movies!" A smile lit up his face and Marinette felt her heart swoop. "I've never gone."

"You've never gone?"

Now it was Adrien's turn to blush. "At least not with friends. Not really. I have a mini theater at home. My father's a little, um, overprotective. If I wanted to watch any movie that's out, he tells Natalie to get it for me."

There was a lonely look on Adrien's face and for a moment, Marinette didn't know what to say. But he quickly brightened. "I'll ask Nino. What time will the movie be?"

"Oh, I-I'd have to check. I'm not sure which showing the tickets are for."

"Here, I'll give you my number. Let me know, yeah?" He grabbed a note from his bag and scrawled a number on it and gave it to her.

Stunned. Here she was, getting Adrien Agreste's number. This had to be the best or worst day of her life. _Dear God_ , she thought, _It's me, Marinette. Tell my parents I love them because Adrien Agreste has rendered me brain dead._

Somehow, between her thoughts, she had wordlessly taken his note. Or maybe he had shoved it into her hands. Either way, the yellow sticky was in her palm. For good measure, she noticed with a flush of pleasure, he had also added his email address and Facebook URL. Not like she hadn't stalked his Facebook for the past few years and knew all of his profile picture changes by heart.  _I'm going to preserve this sticky note for all eternity,_ she thought. _When the people of the future dig up my body, they're going to find me. Me and a beautifully framed note of Adrien Agreste's number and email address._

"But we should really get to class, Marinette. We have a class on Dante to get to. As much as you'd like, we can't keep _circling_ around these steps forever." He winked.

The pun was so much like Chat Noir that Marinette laughed. "As if," she said, rolling her eyes. But then suddenly, she quieted, embarrassed, blushing again and looking away. But if Adrien was shocked by Marinette's reaction, he didn't show it. He just gave a full-hearted, throaty chuckle as they both ran up the steps together.

Friday came and Marinette had showed up at the theater ten minutes early, Adrien already waiting by the benches. But Nino and Alya never showed, both of them suspiciously begging off five minutes before the movie was supposed to start, citing personal reasons in their group text message.

**Alya:** [Got some more Ladyblog business to attend to. Sorry, but I gotta cancel. See you two in class Monday. ;)]

**Nino:** [Yeah, sorry, man. I can't come either. Feeling a little sick. Have fun guys!]

Furious, Marinette sent Alya a personal text. 

**Marinette** : [ALYA!!!! Where the HELL are you???]

**Alya:** [You're welcome. ;)]

She should have seen this coming. But she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready!

"So..." said Adrien awkwardly, tousling his hair. "It sucks that they can't make it. But it'd be a waste to let those tickets expire."

"Yeah, you're right." Marinette grimaced, feeling somewhat queasy. _You're Ladybug. You fight monsters 500 times your size and you defeat evil on a daily fucking basis. Adrien's just a boy. Just a perfect, beautiful, wonderful boy. Just a boy._ "Yeah," she said, more confidently, shooting him a broad smile. With all the pluck she could muster, Marinette said, "Here's to your first movie theater experience among the plebes, Prince Adrien."

Taken aback, he blushed. But he recovered quickly.

"Let's go then, my Princess." He took a step back bowed gracefully, proffering an arm. She laughed. This was easy. Well, easier than she thought. She shyly took his arm and they walked into the theater together.

And that was the start of it all. The next week, he asked her to the movies to thank her for the "free tickets". And then it was ice cream. And then coffee dates. And then, one day, as he was walking her home from a particularly grueling homework session at the library, he found her right hand with his left and clasped it tentatively, gently, as if asking a question. Marinette was mid-sentence, discussing the recent Marvel movie with an animated expression, when she whipped her head towards him, shocked. Adrien had merely looked away, strangely focused on the brick wall next to him, a slow blush rising to his cheeks. 

With a similar flush on her face, Marinette closed her eyes, her heart flitting over the beats, her stomach fluttering in anticipation. She gripped his hand back, tightly. The smile on Adrien's face came as quickly as the blush, wider and brighter than any model smile Marinette had ever seen, his joy over the unspoken reciprocation seeming to light up the entire street. 

The rest, as the say, was history. All her life she'd dreamed of being with Adrien Agreste, her every waking moment filled with thoughts and dreams and fantasies that she felt, and once thought, could never come true. She had been satisfied, being just friends. She had been satisfied, being able to speak to him without tripping over words and falling face first in the pavement. She had been satisfied. It was enough. Then, that day, he loved her back. He loved her back and here she was, on cloud nine.  

And she knew it was all in part of Ladybug. It was Ladybug who gave her confidence, the part of her she tried so hard to be, when she was with him. But it was also the Ladybug side of her that caused the cracks, the deep-seated fear she could never seem to shake during their happiest moments, the long walks by the beach or cuddle sessions on the couch, her anxiety spiraling to new heights as she knew all of this could crumble all so suddenly.

She wasn't honest with him. This huge part of her, this consuming superhero facade she put on, the spots that colored her life now was a secret to this new, best part of her. She could never tell him, not if she wanted to protect Paris, to protect him.

He must be close to finding out. He must be. She left every time when she heard explosions, or screams. Sometimes they'd be having a shopping date and she'd be out in a flash if she saw any news reports of an akuma. He was always so relieved when they found each other again, hours later, and never said anything about her disappearances, but he must be suspicious. He must be.

If Adrien was suspicious about her real identity, what about Hawkmoth? Or Alya? What if one of the many news outlets found out and revealed her? He'd be in danger. Bait for the superhero to give up her earrings, and who would be there to take up the mantle to stop the seemingly, growing number of akumas? 

She wanted to be selfish. Salt the lands and fiddle while Paris burned to the ground. She never asked for this. She never wanted the spots, never asked to be responsible for anything or anyone more than just herself and her innate clumsiness. She just wanted Adrien. Why couldn't she do both? 

As if sensing the occasion, it rained all day in heavy torrents. Uncharacteristic for spring, but just fitting for a dramatic farewell. They were standing at the entrance of the lycée, under the tall awning where he had first handed her his umbrella, where she had unwittingly given him her heart in exchange. Rain dripping down the metal pipes and he was on the verge of tears.

"But, I...why?" His voice broke with every word. "I thought--I thought we were okay. I thought we were more than...more than okay. I thought--Was I wrong?"

Marinette shook her head, violently, her pigtails swinging as she was trying to hold back tears. He reached a hand out, as if to hold her, comfort her, then jerked his hand away, as if rebuked. He looked at the sky, watching the rain fall heavy and fast, and closed his eyes. 

"Marinette, I love you." It was the first time he'd said it. His voice was hollow, quiet. Final. In his voice, Marinette could hear the tone of resignation. 

"I love you too, Adrien." She began to cry.

"Then why?" Adrien took a deep breath, his lips trembling. A slight color of frustration tinged his words. "Why?"

"I can't say."

"I just...We can fix this." He looked at her, his green eyes were bright, either from the sharp, fluorescent light above, or from tears, Marinette didn't want to know. "I don't care what I have to do. I just want to be with you."

"I can't."

"Marinette. We can fix this. Whatever it is, we can fix it." His face crumpled. He wiped his sleeve against his eyes quickly, angrily. 

"We can't fix it." She made her voice as flat as possible. "It's done. I'm sorry, Adrien. I can't do this anymore." 

She hugged him and he tensed, his hands rising slowly and stiffly to hold her, both of them standing like that for a while, quiet and shaking into each other's embrace. She was the first to step back, and he almost stepped forward, wanting to continue their connection, but stopped himself. He swallowed.

"We'll still be friends?"

She closed her eyes. The worst of it was over. "Yeah, sure. Friends."

"See you tomorrow, Marinette."

"Goodbye, Adrien."

How things had changed since they were 13 and he'd first given his umbrella to her under the same awning. How his fingers brushed against hers. How her heart had just stopped. She loved him then. She loves him still.

When Marinette went home, she unstuck all the photos of Adrien from the wall and shoved them in a box, along with all the memories they had together. His smiles. His warm gaze. His unique scent that she'd grown to love -- the musky smell of Parisan smoke, caramel, crisp leaves, and sometimes, strangely enough, Camembert cheese. She had giggled the first time they had been lying next to each other on her bed and a few crumbles of the cheese had fallen out of his shirt pocket and onto her bangs. He blushed, brushing it off, saying it was a guilty pleasure.

"Smells like dead feet," she'd said, biting into a small piece and making a face.

"Sorry I smell like dead feet," he pouted a little.

"I love the smell of dead feet," she said. And he tucked a strand of her hair aside, tilted her head up, and kissed her for the first time. 

Marinette's chest constricted at the memory. He deserves to be with someone who is as beautiful as her life is simple. Someone not complicated. Someone just as perfect and wonderful. I'm just a mess. I'm Ladybug. I don't deserve him.

"God, Tikki, this hurts so much. I love him. I love him so much." Here she was, crying again. Tears falling, one after another, blotching Adrien's pictures.

"It's going to be okay, Marinette." Tikki rubbed against her cheek. "You're young. You'll find a new love."

Marinette just curled into a corner and wept, clutching the box to her heart.

Until she heard an explosion from outside her window followed by Alya's screams and Chat Noir's yells.

_Akuma!_ Marinette jumped to her feet, the box spilling onto the floor.

"Tikki," she said, wiping her eyes.  _That's right._ Marinette thought.  _Paris needs me._ "Transform me!" 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He caught her eyes with his, his green eyes soft and gentle and tense and wanting all at once and she melted, completely, her breath, stopping. She would have been happy drowning into the floor and never coming up for air if it meant him looking at her like this forever, in this spot, in the classroom, just five minutes before the bell. If only time could just pause. If only. He must still love her. He must. And he must have known that she still loved him. He must. But all of a sudden, Chloe barged in, cackling with Sabrina about Ladybug saving her yesterday, and Marinette whipped her head away. They were back at square one again, where he had her exactly where she didn't want to be

You ask yourself: what more could you have said? What more could you have done? She slips from you as easily as silk and you let her go. How could love have soured so easily? It was simple for her. Walked out of his life like love had never once walked in for them. But she was crying. Marinette, crying. The memory was an aching down to his bones. He could still feel the warmth of her, his arms still remembering the shape of her slim shoulders, his lips remembering the softness of hers.

What would it take for him to be selfish for once?

At one point, he thought Marinette was Ladybug. Could it be that his girlfriend and his partner were the same person? Two sides of the same coin and him the metal in between? But he shook that off. He wanted them to be the same, but they couldn't possibly be -- if Ladybug was the girl of his dreams, Marinette was better than the girl of his dreams. Marinette was real. 

 _Je t'aime_ , he'd said, as if it was on the tip of his tongue all along. And she had still left. If he had said it sooner, would he still be here, under this awning, without her? What could he have done to make her stay? What did he do wrong?

"There's nothing you could have done, Adrien," said Plagg, as if answering his thoughts. For once, his kwami wasn't being an asshole. "You'll find someone else."

"Thanks, Plagg." Adrien shook his head and offered his kwami a piece of Camembert from his jacket, which Plagg snapped up easily, greedily.

"Girls, right?" snorted Plagg, polishing off the cheese. And there he was, back at it again with the asshole remarks. "I honestly don't get human emotions sometimes. And can we please get out of the rain? I hate being wet."

Adrien rolled his eyes before stepping further back under the awning. "If only I could be happy with just smelly cheese and a dry box."

He was contemplating whether he should give Plagg a break for the day and call Natalie, or just fuck it all and transform into Chat Noir and sulk around the rainy, slippery Parisian rooftops. On one hand, running around the city, swooping from skyscraper to skyscraper generally cheered him up, especially on days when his father made him feel like the human equivalent of Jell-O, but on the other, he felt worse than usual, and he just wanted to go home as soon as possible and sulk in bed until next spring rolled around. Before he could weigh the pros and cons, however, he heard loud crashing noises and several screams from around the block.

 _Well, there's my decision,_ he thought, dryly. 

"Plagg," he said. _All of this can wait. Paris needs me._  "Transform me!" 

* * *

 Adrien didn't even catch the name of the new villain, a computerized body with a blue screen, and was less than impressed with its powers: shooting jets of code from his claws that exploded nearby buildings and overturned cars and caused shrieks everywhere from civilians.

"No need to be so buggy," said Adrien, yelling to be heard over the rain as the akuma stomped towards him, making giant splashes as he zapped at nearby cars. He bounced away on his staff and hopped onto a pile of rubble. "You're going to short circuit in this rain and what fun would that be?"

The villain was no different than the standard fare, and Adrien figured he could just stall for time until Ladybug came and did her usual bag of spotty magic tricks. Usually, fighting akumas also cheered him up, and the adrenaline rush was always as addicting as crack, but today, he felt almost bored. 

Ready to dodge whatever attack the villain was about to throw at him, Adrien twirled his staff around. The villain, however, had stomped away from him. Curious as to what else could have caught its eyes, Adrien hopped towards a light post, when he saw a flash of red hair from the corner of his eyes. _Alya._

There she was, filming in a raincoat. She called out to him when he turned, noticing her, "Don't mind me, Chat Noir! I'm just waiting for Ladybug to come!"

Alya was always on the scene faster than anyone, even before him or Ladybug had even realized something had happened. From just sitting behind her in class, he had seen how her phone was subscribed to thousands of RSS feeds of various news stations and Ladybug conspiracy and news blogs. It wouldn't stop vibrating during science class once, when an akuma attack had happened in the twelfth district a few blocks away, and Mademoiselle Mendeleiev had pelted bits of chalk at her, screaming at her to put the "damn atrocity you attention-seeking millennial use" away. 

It generally wasn't a big deal, that she was here. She always positioned herself on high ground or in a safe nook a few yards away, behind cars or sign posts. Adrien and Ladybug were enough of a distraction to take the heat off other civilians, the villains seemingly more interested in stealing their jewelry than doing more harm to the city or people. Today, however -- 

The villain had sped up, clawed up Alya and held her twelve feet up in the air in a tight choke hold. With a sudden panic, Adrien leapt forward. 

"All right Java the Hutt, let go of the girl and no one's going to get hurt," said Adrien, readying his claws for a Cataclysm, as Alya struggled out of its claws, screaming. But before Adrien could lunge at him, a screaming Alya was thrown against a building, effectively knocking her out. Her body lay limp against the rubble, a streak of blood streaming down the sides of both temples.

He darted towards her, feet slipping on puddles, about to scoop Alya up and take her somewhere safe as the explosion happened, his shouts piercing the air as rock crashed down around him. 

* * *

 When Adrien awoke from his knocked out stupor, the first thing he saw through the rubble was Alya tucked in a nook of an alley, a pink umbrella above her. Safe, breathing. Him, on the other hand. Well, getting this rubble off him would be a nice start --

"Miraculous Ladybug!" shouted Ladybug. From a ways off, Adrien saw Ladybug, drenched and panting, throw what looked like an electric screwdriver in the air. He saw the entire back panel of the computerized akuma lying on the floor, several screws glistening in the rain.

The rubble disappeared from above him, returning back to part of the building above him, and he stood up sheepishly as Ladybug stepped towards him. He eyed the engineering student that was once an akuma and saw that he, too, looked rather perplexed as he walked off in the rain, sulking.  _That makes two of us, buddy,_ thought Adrien, who would have liked nothing better than to be at home right now, curled up in a blanket, feeling like crap in peace. Instead, he was badly bruised, wet, and the rain was falling heavier than ever, reminding him with a dull ache of what had just happened only hours prior under the awning.

"Chat, you okay?" Ladybug had sauntered over, eyebrows arched, twirling her yo-yo that she had just used. 

"Nothing a kiss from you wouldn't solve, my Lady," said Adrien, smiling. He had kept up the flirting and punning while he was dating Marinette to keep up appearances, to hide his identity, and mainly to keep the casual banter going between him and his partner, but today, of all days, Ladybug didn't seem too responsive. Maybe it was because he didn't seem too into it, either.

"How's our favorite Ladyblogger?" he said, sobering quickly.

"Still passed out, but her head wound's mostly healed. The rain's letting up, so hopefully she can get home okay when she wakes. But maybe we should take her home." Ladybug sneezed, wobbling a little, and Adrien touched her shoulders gently.

"She looks better off than you, at the moment," he said. Ladybug looked flushed, and not from fighting, either. Her breath came out in quick puffs and she ended every sentence with a cough. "Bugaboo, are you all right? You seem--"

"Oh, funny you've noticed, Chat," said Ladybug, sniffing in an almost harrumph-like manner. She zipped onto a building and Adrien followed suit on his baton. She plopped on the ledge, feet dangling as her earrings beeped, but she didn't seem to hear, or care. "I'm fine. I probably caught a cold from the rain just now. You don't need to mind me. Just a bad day, Chat. "

"Might I say, a cat-astrophic day?" When she didn't respond, he said, quietly, "Sorry. I get it. Do you want to, uh, talk about it?"

Ladybug shook her head. She kicked her legs against the building, letting herself get more and more drenched by the rain. 

"I know your suit is waterproof, but we really should get out of this rain," he said.

"You go if you want," said Ladybug. Her earrings beeped again. "I need this right now."

"My day wasn't great, either, to tell you the truth," said Adrien, softly. Maybe if he shared, she'd be more willing to open up. Casually, with an awkward, matter-of-fact air, he said, "My, uh, girlfriend dumped me today, actually, if that makes you feel any better."

"You? Girlfriend?" Ladybug sneezed again. "That's news. Or I guess, 'mews'."

Adrien laughed. He heard his ring beep and he knew he should have stood up and left, should have just told Ladybug that he had to go, that they both had to go, but he just wanted to stay here, just for a bit longer. He didn't want to be alone right now. "You've caught the punning 'bug', too."

"Oh, shush, you dumb cat," she said, but she was grinning. But her smile faltered as she said, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"It's okay." And it was, well, okay. He was going to be okay. He knew that, at least. "In the end, if I'm not what she wants, then..." His voice caught in his throat. "I guess I just wasn't good enough for her."

The first time Adrien let his insecurities falter through and it was to Ladybug, of all people. It felt strange, odd, even, confessing his heartache to the girl he once loved. Did he still hold a flame for Ladybug? _It was idolization_ , he thought quickly. He had, and still, idolized and respected her. But she was no Marinette and Marinette -- the thought of her caused a lump in his throat. He missed her so much. 

Already, Adrien felt like eating the words he'd just said, swallow his insecurities, take them back. He felt weak. This wasn't like him, the Chat Noir she knew. Their partnership should never go further than the witty banter and casual flirting they had. "Sorry," said Adrien quickly as he saw how quiet Ladybug had become. The beeping got louder, both from his ring and Ladybug's earrings. "Just forge--"

"That's not true," said Ladybug suddenly, fiercely. Her bright blue eyes were ablaze and Adrien felt trapped under her gaze. "Don't you ever say that, Chat. That girl was damn lucky to have you and she's an idiot to let you go. She's going to realize that, if she hasn't already. You're loyal, smart, funny, and most of all, kind. You're Chat Noir, superhero cat extraordinarie and my partner and I don't ever want to hear you say that you're not good enough for anyone, anyone. Do you hear me?"

"Does that mean I'm good enough for you, my Lady?" He smirked.

"Try again," she started to laugh, but ended it with a cough. Her face flushed a darker red and Adrien could tell she was feeling worse than she looked. The earrings gave a loud beep.

"You sure you're okay?" He furrowed his brows, gripping her shoulder. "You look awful."

"Thanks," Ladybug said dryly.

"I didn't mean it that way -- " he started. 

"Yeah, I know," she said. Her face darkened. "I probably caught a cold or something, from this rain. Life just sucks right now." The earrings gave another beep. "And these earrings --" Ladybug glowered at seemingly nothing in particular, muttering, "--are so goddamn annoying."

Adrien blinked. He had never heard Ladybug swear with such vigor and anger. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Well..." said Ladybug, a look of epiphany suddenly lighting up her face. "I think maybe you'd understand. Or rather, you're the only one who could."

"What is it?" For a moment, Ladybug looked scared. She bit her lip. 

"Don't you ever feel that being a -- "

The earrings beeped again, this time, with an increasing, warning frequency. The ring gave, also, a small beep, as if echoing her earrings.

"I'll tell you some other time," she said, grimacing, hopping up. "I should go. I'm turning back into a pumpkin again."

"Hey," said Adrien, standing up to support her trembling figure. He never realized how small she was. How much fire was in such a little frame. "I think I should take you home, especially in this rain. You really don't look well."

Ladybug waved him off, her voice nasal. "See you later, Chat. Stay safe in the rain. I know how you cats hate getting wet."

She zipped away quickly onto the next building before Adrien could say anything, then the next building, then the next. Adrien sighed.  _Yeah, li_ _fe just sucks right now._

Ladybug's earlier words echoed in his head, and he sighed, again. _Well, it's nothing new._  he thought dully. He wondered if maybe he and Ladybug could have bonded over their shitty day, but really, he shouldn't have taken much stock in that. While he could possibly call her a friend, they had never revealed anything personal about each other until today, and even that was a far stretch. So paranoid they both were to keep their identities secret, the only things Adrien had found out about his partner in the past three years was that she was a girl, around sixteen, and knew how to make a godly croissant.

She had brought him one, once, mentioning she hadn't eaten breakfast and thought maybe he hadn't too. As they were investigating the wreckage from the akuma attack (a cannery worker who blew up his factory in the wee hours of the morning), he had taken a bite, blown away by how deliciously soft and delicate it was.

"Where did you even get this? This is amazing." 

She said, slyly, "I made it myself."

"No, really."

"I did!"

"You fight crime and bake bread? Marry me."

She snorted. "It's just something I picked up. I also know how to make cereal and order take-out, also."

"Hey, those are pretty marketable skills," he grinned. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I'll put that on my CV. Maybe Gabriel Agreste will hire me for my ability to recite the Chinese take-out menu in flawless song."

He laughed, wanting desperately to say that his father had always nursed a guilty pleasure for Kung Pao Chicken from the restaurant on 17th and La Ville Rue. He held his tongue, knowing better. 

It would have been good, to know her better; even if he didn't like Ladybug in that way, anymore, he didn't have many friends to begin with. And today, he had irrevocably lost one in Marinette: their friendship was never going to recover from their relationship. He sighed, again. About to turn away and hop home himself, he suddenly saw that Ladybug's transformation had released and her civilian form had collapsed and crumpled atop a Patisserie from faraway.  
  
"Ladybug!" All pretenses gone, Adrien rushed to her, hopping from rooftop to rooftop on his baton, and landed onto the building she was on before his transformation also released. He ran towards her, quickly drenching his civilian clothes. Her form was face first on the pavement, her civilian form was panting heavily, her body hot to the touch.

"She's burning up," he muttered as Plagg darted by him, hissing.

"Adrien, honestly. Did you really have to release your transformation in the pouring rain? I swear to -- "

He stopped when he saw what Adrien was looking at. Adrien had turned Ladybug over, hoping to identify her, take her home somehow. Her red kwami was cradled in her palms, its lifeless form also panting from fever. 

"Marinette?"

* * *

 _Had it really been two months?_ Marinette thought. _Time dwindles when you're trying to forget._

For once, she wasn't late to class even though there was an akuma attack last night. A local coffee shop owner, bitter that his storefront was turning into a parking lot for the nearby mall, had turned into a giant guzzling espresso machine, firing coffee beans from its akumatized nostrils at the mayor Bourgeoise. The fight was quick, but the PR dealings later, however, were not.

"Chloe," said Marinette, thoroughly annoyed. Chloe had her arm in a vice. _I have an essay to finish by tomorrow and I haven't even started._ "I've got to go--"

"Oh, please, Ladybug, just one more picture, please?" the blonde begged, hair swishing as Marinette tried to shake her off. "For saving my life? Please? I'm trying to get 10k followers by the end of the week.."

 _And I could win the annual award for perfect attendance at school tomorrow_ , Marinette grimaced.  _But let's both lower our standards, why don't we._

"Chloe," sang Chat Noir, tiptoeing behind them. "What's that over there, by the fountain? Is that--" he gave a fake gasp. "--Jagged Stone with Adrien Agreste? What's that? A photo shoot?"

"What, where?" Chloe whipped her ponytail around, releasing Marinette. She bounded away turning towards the park, probably hoping to scoop up photo ops for more followers. 

Marinette zipped away onto a nearby building and Chat Noir followed alongside her.

"Thanks, Chat," she said. The sun had begun to set and Marinette swore internally at the time. "Sorry, I can't stay to chat, Chat. I've got some homework to finish by tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," he said, smiling confidently. His voice softened. "Good luck on the essay."

"Oh, um. Thanks." She didn't recall mentioning the essay to him, but maybe she had, after all. Not like it mattered. She hadn't even read the play they were writing about. "See you later, Chat."

The next morning, Adrien was already in his seat and he beamed at Marinette as she walked in with her freshly printed essay. She was trying to still her butterflies in her stomach and her rapidly beating heart. _Shut up, shut up, shut up,_ Marinette thought, mentally hissing at her butterflies. "Hey, Adrien. Did you finish the essay?"

"Yeah. Did you?" They were reading _As You Like It_  by Shakespeare.

"Yeah."

"What's your essay on?"

"Oh, uh. Er. You don't want to hear it. It's longwinded," he chuckled.

"Oh, come out with it." said Marinette. She waggled her eyebrows. "Not confident? _Shaky_ in your writing skills?"

"Oh, please. I could  _spear_ your thesis with mine."

"Then spill," said Marinette simply, kicking back in her seat. This was easy. This could be easy. How quickly their romance could become nothing but a fleeting memory. They could be friends again, even if all they did was exchange banter on homework.

"Well," said Adrien slowly. "If you're sure about it."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Just get on with it."

He gave a brief summary, railing off on the different characters and the various discourses and analyses he'd read from critics. Marinette knew that Adrien loved school more than anything, putting everything he could into his homework, his essays, his grades. Going not just the extra mile, but several miles, far past the next few blocks, but cities over with over achievement. When the whole class complained about extra homework, he always seemed pleased to write more in his planner, dotting his i's and crossing his t's carefully in his neat handwriting. Exams were an excuse to stay away from home, finals were a reason to stay later and study with friends at the library. For Adrien, school was a treat, a privilege. Something he knew could be taken away, just like everything else in his life. He loved it, and hearing him rattle on, Marinette listened more to the cadence of his voice, the passion he had, and realized how much of a dork he was. A loveable dork. A dork she loved. More than once in the past few months, she wished she could grasp his hand and tell him how brilliant he was, how lovely and perfect he was, and how much she utterly missed him.

All too soon, Adrien finished, trailing off, realizing, as usual, that perhaps his joy for school was not commonly shared by his classmates. He blushed, giving her a tentative glance, waiting anxiously for her reaction.

Marinette merely snorted. "Oh, well, shit. I'm definitely getting an F."

He laughed. "Don't say that. I'm sure your essay's great. Your writing's always been lovely, just like your designs. And you."

Silence.

She didn't think she could turn redder.

"Um."   _How does he do this to me?_ "Thanks."

Maybe, she had made a mistake in trying to be friends with him. This was her, just torturing him, leading him on. She had thought he wouldn't care anymore, move on, and forget about the brief period of time they shared together: she was just Marinette. Just Marinette. And there were plenty of other, better girls in the sea. But for Adrien, he hadn't seemed to forget. She took a secret joy in this, that he still, possibly, cared for her, but again: she knew she was cruel. She was cruel. She was awful. What had happened between them could never be, again. She was just prolonging the inevitable. 

 _I made it awkward,_ she thought.  _Holy fucking shit. He was just complimenting me. I did this. We were doing so well and I fucked it up. Good going, Marinette, just--_

"I made it awkward, didn't I?" said Adrien quietly. "I'm sorry. It just--I know it's been a while. But it still takes time to get used to."

"No, no no! It was me. God, I'm so sorry. I'm such a klutz."

"No, it's--I'm sorry." He caught her eyes with his, his green eyes soft and gentle and tense and wanting all at once and she melted, completely, her breath, stopping. She would have been happy drowning into the floor and never coming up for air if it meant him looking at her like this forever, in this spot, in the classroom, just five minutes before the bell. If only time could just pause. If only. He must still love her. He must. And he must have known that she still loved him. He must. But all of a sudden, Chloe barged in, cackling with Sabrina about her selfie with Ladybug yesterday, and Marinette whipped her head away. They were back at square one again, where he had her exactly where she didn't want to be.

Again, they were both quiet. Marinette would have preferred static of any kind over the radio silence that Adrien and her would share in these tense moments. Awkward, but left her wanting more. And yet, she knew she couldn't. She had dumped him. She had left. She had broken his heart. And most of all, it was to protect him. 

When both Alya and Nino walked in, holding hands, giggling, Marinette was glad for the reprieve. Alya slid into the seat next to Marinette, Nino's next to Adrien, and when both of them turned to their respective friends, the situation seemed to smooth over, what had happened seemingly forgotten.

But when Mme. de Gaulle began talking about the new play they were covering, Marinette looked over at Adrien, watching his fingers absentmindedly curl into his hair. It had been growing out for a while. The last haircut he got, she was with him -- she'd convinced him to get a haircut at a barber shop in Paris ("You're really going to spend 400 euros on a trim? Come on, Adrien."), instead of one of his father's hires, and he had nervously twittered in his seat while the mustachioed barber trimmed his cowlicks. Marinette had snorted when he'd examined his reflection, twisting and turning until he deemed it perfect, then laughed when he took out several fat bills from his wallet only to discover the resulting price was only 20 euros, plus tip.

"You're telling me my father could have saved 300 euros this whole time? This is literally the same haircut I get every time."

"Well, not exactly," said Marinette slowly.

"What, is there something different about this haircut?" He looked worried, tense.

"You would have saved 370 euros, to be exact." She laughed at his expression, the relief on his face palpable.

He smiled, reached for her hand and intertwining his fingers between hers. "Okay, okay, rub it in my face more, why don't you."

She wondered if he'd get a haircut there again. If he'd go and think of her and how she played with his hair later, twirling it between her fingers, soft murmurs in his ear. His head was on her lap as they lay in the patch of grass near the Pantheon, sometime in September, pink blossoms still in bloom before the coming of autumn. A few petals had drifted, lazily, into Adrien's hair. Marinette plucked one out and let it fall before her lips, blowing it against the breeze.

"Make a wish," she said.

He closed his eyes, squeezing them tight for what seemed like eons. When he finally opened his eyes, she bent down close.

"What'd you wish for?" she asked.

"Oh, you know," he saiid. He looked at her and that was all it took for her heart to stop, her breath to catch. _Je t'aime,_ she wanted to say, but caught herself. It was too soon. Too fast. It'd only been a week. Then, he began to tickle her and she had swatted him in a fit of giggles and all was forgotten.

_But what did he wish for?_

She also noticed that the ends of his hair was still wet, probably from a morning shower. He smelled faintly like lavender, like her -- she left her own brand of lavender soaps in his shower, once, and she had never gone back for them. It was late November, and it had begun to rain hard as they had come back from the Piscine Molitar, the nearby pool, and they were both drenched from both the pool and the rain. The Piscine was closer to Adrien's place than the bus stop they'd come from and, as Marinette was shivering, Adrien awkwardly suggested that they make a run for it and take a shower and dry up at his place instead of just waiting idly at the pool for the rain to let up. He added, quickly, that of course Natalie would be home, even if his dad was on a business trip in Rome, so don't worry, I don't, and will never, have any designs on your purity. When he finished speaking, all babbled out, his face had turned bright red.

Marinette set her shoes neatly by the door way of his mansion. "You're _never_  going to have designs on my purity?"

"Never," he said, his face flushing. She decided she liked it best when Adrien blushed, a look typically she only wore. "I promise."

"Oh," said Marinette. She took a deep breath. "Well, you know. I'd be, um, disappointed if you _never_  had any designs on my purity."

And left him there, open-mouthed and gaping as she went to take a shower in his room with her toiletries, lavender shampoo and all, from the pool. "I guess I'll take that shower first," she said, laughing at his expression. "I'm kidding, by the way! Kind of."

It took all of her pluck to say what she did, but it was definitely worth his red-faced sputtering, especially again, as she emerged from the shower in his white Gabriel Agreste™ t-shirt he left hanging on the sink. And it was, well, true. She would have been disappointed. If they were still together.

She turned her gaze to the window and onto a fading billboard of his recent perfume ad. Everywhere she went, there he was. Perfect and gorgeous and meant to be. Her breath caught again, in her throat, when she smelled another waft of lavender. Her soaps. His smell. 

_I still love him. God, help me. I still love him._

And this was why, with even more reason, she had to stay away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well," said Chat, in a final sort of way. His voice was suddenly quiet, intimate, and the air between them suddenly changed. He placed tentative fingers on Marinette's temple, where the bruise was, his fingertips grazing the hurt, smoothing over the bump. Marinette froze under his touch, his gaze -- one where he seemed to see her down to her bones, to who she was -- and her heartbeat quickened like a fluttering hummingbird, her breath catching and falling in her throat, and she gripped her yo-yo tightly in her palms. "See you for patrol tomorrow then, Ladybug." He gave her a small smile.
> 
> Before Marinette could say anything, it was Chat who left quickly this time, his baton propelling him away into the Parisian night sky. She watched the fading dot of his frame leap onto a faraway building and her legs, suddenly weak, gave out beneath her.
> 
> "I--" Marinette plopped down on the concrete floor by the river, her head spinning. "I can't--" 
> 
> Her transformation released as a terrible, awful, shameful realization dawned on her: she was attracted to her partner.
> 
> To Chat Noir. 
> 
> "Shit!" said Marinette, yelling into the river. She splashed it in frustration. "I am NOT doing this again."

Summer in Paris began as a dry and quiet affair. Marinette spent her final, free days finishing summer homework with friends and idling on the balcony, dreaming up clothing designs as she and a snoozing Tikki enjoyed the sun, the city chatter, and the sudden, abundant amount of free time she had for the first time since becoming Ladybug. There had been no akuma attacks for weeks. Peace in the City of Light, at last.

At first, Marinette was anxious, downright panicked. She patrolled the city for hours, jumping from ledge to ledge, building to building, prowling balconies and alleyways for any sign of Hawkmoth or an akumatized villain, but swung home each night in a total frenzy after finding nothing but cats and cat burglars. Her kwami would shake her head, as perplexed as she was.

Days passed like this, then weeks. Eventually, Marinette chalked it up to Hawkmoth taking a sabbatical -- villains take breaks sometimes, don't they? He had a day job, didn't he? He was probably relaxing evilly on a patch of white sand, coconut drink and parasol umbrella straw in hand, snorkeling with happy little porpoises. No use in worrying over milk that hasn't spilled yet. Put it all on a backburner and they'll cross that bridge when they come it and all that. Marinette finally settled, slowly growing to enjoy the moments where she could be an uninterrupted, regular, sixteen-year-old girl.

She found herself hiding out in the bakery's kitchen in the early morning, kneading dough as she waited for another pan of croissants to rise or sifting through another jar of almond flour for macarons. She met up with Alya and Nino almost every other day, getting coffee and new eats around the city, hanging out at the park or catching an early movie. In the evening, she would make dinner with Mama and play video games with Papa, beating him at Robo Smash and eating cereal with him until the wee hours of the night. She caught a glimpse of her life as it would have been without the spots: simple. Simple, unadorned, uncomplicated, quiet.

If only it were so.

She hadn't seen Adrien in weeks. He had left Paris the moment school let out for summer -- busier than ever, he and his father were on a seven week Gabriel Agreste(TM) tour around the globe, putting out ads and billboards and magazine center spreads in Italy and Taiwan and country after exotic country. Adrien becoming an internationally renowned celebrity was no longer dreams on a distant horizon, but real. Confirmed on Parisian Post: Adrien Agreste to star as a minor character in a highly budgeted celebrity film set to come out next fall.

Not like Marinette followed the news about him or anything.

Just coincidences.

Really.

"So what's with you and Adrien?" asked Alya. She and Marinette had just gotten some coffee and plopped onto a shady patch of grass. It was a rare day that Nino didn't also join them and Marinette had wondered why -- he'd been sticking to Alya like a particularly needy piece of gum to her worn sneakers but today, Alya had told her boyfriend to beg off when they all met up in front of the Eiffel.

"Not today, bud," said Alya, spinning his red hat around. "Girls day only. You know what I mean." And Nino had shrugged, smiling a little, saying he wanted to check out that new music store by the Champs Elysées anyway. He raised his eyebrows and gave Marinette a knowing look, then headed off.

Marinette was glad she wasn't third wheeling for once, but now --

"Nothing is 'with' me and Adrien," said Marinette, reddening, taking a large gulp of her coffee. "What's with the second degree all of a sudden?"

"Well, he's coming back today from Holland, isn't he? Our little celebrity is done filming and modeling for the season." Alya smirked, giving Marinette a saucy grin. "Thought you'd be interested."

As if Marinette didn't already know. As if her RSS didn't already ping her with the news weeks ago. As if she hadn't been mentally counting down the days with bated breath. "Alya, we broke up six months ago."

"Jesus Christ! You two have been circling around each other like vultures! Vultures! I've seen the way he looks at you and, worse yet, the way you look at him when you think no one's looking, like a puppy pining after a steak it can't have and resorting to table scraps. News flash, Marinette Dupain-Cheng -- you're obvious. Obvious! Just yesterday, Nino and I saw you staring at the line of his posters on the Rennes, completely lost in unbridled lust."

"I was not!" said Marinette shrilly. Maybe she stared. But she didn't gape. And not in lust. "If you don't remember, I was the one who dumped him."

"But why?!" Alya threw her hands up, shaking her fists at the sky, glowering at the clouds as if they had personally wronged her. "Dating him was your dream since you were TWELVE and it's not like you're not still HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH HIM."

"It's complicated." Marinette's voice was small. She felt small.  
  
"No, it's not. You two clearly still want each other. I haven't said anything and Nino hasn't said anything because we thought you two would eventually work things out and kiss and make up but it's been six months. Half a year. We're going to graduate and you'll never see him again. Will you two get a move on already?"

"There's nothing to move on to." Marinette bit her lip and twisted her earrings. "We're done."

"You two are MOST definitely NOT done. There has to be a reason. And I'm going to find out, Marinette. Just you wait." Alya pointed her frappe at Marinette, raising her eyebrows at her in challenge. Her voice softened. "But whatever the reason is, it's not worth this. Nothing is."

"Maybe." Marinette looked down at her pink flats and sucked down her coffee. Was Paris worth this? Well. "Maybe not."

* * *

Marinette had whittled her routine down to the barebones: an hour each night, she'd give Tikki a cookie, transform into Ladybug, then give Paris a once over. Swinging across most of Paris and back to the bakery took an hour at most, maybe less.

Again, there was nothing. Some days, she wasn't even sure why she bothered -- but still, each night, like an addict finding her next fix, she swung with a frenzied desperation from each perch, looking for something, anything to sate her growing hunger for the adrenaline, a beast inside of her that starved for the rush, the action, the need to feel needed.

And tonight, disappointed, she released her transformation on the rooftop of the school. She took a deep breath. People were safe. That's what mattered. But still, her body ached. She longed to throw herself into her alter ego, her work, and move on with her life.

And yet, sometimes, Marinette wished she could dramatically unpin the earrings from her lobes and step on them like she would an akuma. Feel the satisfying crack of the glass. Watch a butterfly break free and flutter away, free, like every other super villain she had cleansed. Marinette lay flat on the roof, cool night air tickling her skin, and felt a shiver come up her spine.

"Tikki. Sometimes, I feel so...alone."  
  
"What do you mean? You have me, Marinette," said her kwami, nestled in her hand, yawning. "You don't want to go home yet?"  
  
Marinette looked at the Paris city line, watching the darkened facade of buildings across from her, seeing the lights flicker and twinkle from windows, from silhouettes of people moving  
around in their homes, of shops getting ready to close.  
  
"Did other Ladybugs ever..." Marinette trailed off. She stared at the moon, reaching a hand towards the sky.  
  
"Ever?" Tikki tilted her head.  
  
Marinette shook her head and smiled. "Nothing. Let's go home."

Marinette sat up, debating whether to transform again and leap the short distance to the bakery balcony, or just walk the few blocks. It was a cool night, an empty night. The waning moon beamed soft light on the metal flagpole next to her, her reflection illuminating and flickering back at her in wavy streaks. Marinette frowned and twisted her earrings. Today, she was going to walk.

She fed Tikki another cookie, transformed, then swung her yo-yo onto street level before clasping it back to her hip. It wouldn't have taken more than ten minutes to get home, but tonight, she wanted to take her time. She looped around the back of the school in the opposite direction, towards the River Seine.

Last night, she dreamt about the Seine. How she stepped along the concrete path and watched the water, tainted from tourist trappings and trash, wash up and rise against the edge of the walk in soft splashes. It was a melancholic morning, almost maudlin in the way the clouds formed, both foggy and misty, windy and wet, and the air smelled sweet and clear, the trees swaying gently above her, overcasting a shadow on her frame. Leaves fell, petals twirling around the small wooden benches overlooking the water. She sank into the bench, looking towards the arch of the bridges. And then, she saw Adrien. Walking towards her, emerging from the tunnel.

Adrien, smiling at her.

"Marinette," he'd said, green eyes gentle. And at the sound of her name, Marinette felt a lump in her throat, a harsh tugging at her heart. She could give up. Why did she always have to be the hero?

He was the only thing she had ever wanted. The one thing. And she would never have him again.

"Ladybug?" Marinette snapped out of her reverie. Someone had called her. She glanced around to find the source of the phantom voice, but saw no one.

Suddenly, a black figure somersaulted and landed in front of her, tail tangled between his feet. Marinette jumped back, heart thundering, as a sheepish Chat Noir looked up at her, grinning as he brushed thick, blond locks out of his eyes.

"Hey Bugaboo! Haven't  _seine_ YOU in a long time," he said, winking.

Marinette rolled her eyes and laughed. She felt, immediately, an immense relief. In a light, airy voice, Marinette said, "Well, it doesn't seem going abroad has changed you much at all. When did you come back?"

"Just an hour or two ago. I thought I'd come find you at the tail end of your patrol." He almost purred the last word, and he looked almost as pleased to see her as she him.

"No akumas in the rest of Europe, then?" Marinette helped him up, offering him a gloved hand.

"Not so much," said Chat, twirling his baton around, like he would a pen. "Then again, I haven't really been outside to explore." There was a slight, sad note to his voice, but Marinette didn't notice. The anxiety and agitation Marinette had felt in the past few months seemed to fade -- she'd forgotten how much she'd miss Chat Noir.

He was the only one who could understand, the only one she could confide in. Over the past few months, Marinette wasn't sure if Ladybug was who she really was, and her civilian identity the mask. As Ladybug, she felt authentic, honest, and free. And that scared her. She answered to nobody, beholden to no one.

As Marinette Dupain-Cheng, she felt periods of melancholic anger, that she was missing something. She was a liar: couldn't even tell her best friend about herself, forced to grit her teeth and laugh when Alya discussed Ladybug conspiracy theories; couldn't even tell her family, her parents both swelling in pride as they read news of Paris' favorite, neighborhood superhero, Marinette always guiltily looking away; couldn't even tell her boyfriend, Adrien tearing up in front of the school --

She needed to talk. She was bursting with emotion, and she was sick of crying, of patrolling mindlessly, of fighting akumas and eating pans of croissants to deal with her feelings. She needed to talk to Chat, her partner, her friend.

"About the akumas..." Marinette began, hoping to get the most concerning issue out of the way before they talked about her feelings, but Chat didn't seem to want to talk about work.

"And how've you been, Bug? Miss your kitty at all this summer?" With this, his voice had deepened. Or had it always been that deep? That husky? And suddenly, Marinette looked up (she never had to look up before), staring straight up into his playful green eyes -- Chat had grown taller over the summer he'd been gone, several inches taller, his shoulder broader, his dark suit filling out some, taut against his chest, his jawline sharper, more defined. She wasn't sure what she'd expected after not seeing Chat Noir for three months, but it certainly wasn't this.

"Oh," said Marinette, her face flushing a bright, inexplicable pink. Her mind went blank. "I've been. Patrolling. But it's been quiet. The, um, last few months. And it's late. I'm going home. Bye, Chat." She whirled around quickly, feeling her yo-yo swing around and thump against her tailbone.

"Wh-" Chat grabbed her hand. She could feel herself tense at his touch as his large hands clasped around her own. "At least let me escort you home, Ladybug -- we haven't seen each other in a while."

Marinette turned a brighter red. The stillness, the calm she felt earlier in Chat's presence was gone, only to be replaced with a growing sense of shame. She willed her heartbeat to quiet itself. "Oh, it's a short walk back."

"Lady--"

"Chat." She wanted to lash out, but somehow, her voice came out as beseeching instead. "I just want to walk alone. Please?"

Chat blinked. If he was surprised by her change of tone, he didn't show it. "Well, as the lady insists-"

"Great," said Marinette, her face still warm, turning away from the river and towards the Eiffel to head home. She wanted to get as far as humanly possible from Chat right now, no part of her desiring to confront the reason behind her burning cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach.

Without further ado, she turned and hurled her yo-yo straight up in the air, hoping to wrap it around a nearby lamppost so she could swing away, but in a very Marinette-like fashion, the yo-yo fell and whacked her hard in the head and she stumbled backwards, clutching her head.

"Shit!" said Marinette angrily, rubbing the forming bruise on her temple. This had never happened to her before as Ladybug and the one time it did, it had to be in front of --

Remembering Chat was still there, she turned back. There he was, gaping at her, jaw slightly ajar in surprise. She glared. He closed his mouth, puffing his cheeks, shaking his head, trying to hold back what Marinette unmistakably knew to be a fit of laughter.

"Don't," she warned, but as she said it, he snorted, then burst out in peals of giggles, bending over and clutching his stomach.

"That was..." Chat waved a hand in the air, as if trying to fan his laughs away, but failing. "You certainly are a special one, Buggy."

"Shut up," said Marinette grumpily, but she started to grin too.

There was a brief pause that lingered. For a moment, Marinette figured that maybe the butterflies in her stomach weren't that fluttery after all. It was, perhaps, just a fluke.

"Well," said Chat, in a final sort of way. His voice was suddenly quiet, intimate, and the air between them suddenly changed. He placed tentative fingers on Marinette's temple, where the bruise was, his fingertips grazing the hurt, smoothing over the bump. Marinette froze under his touch, his gaze -- one where he seemed to see her down to her bones, to who she was -- and her heartbeat quickened like a fluttering hummingbird, her breath catching and falling in her throat, and she gripped her yo-yo tightly in her palms. "See you for patrol tomorrow then, Ladybug." He gave her a small smile.

Before Marinette could say anything, it was Chat who left quickly this time, his baton propelling him away into the Parisian night sky. She watched the fading dot of his frame leap onto a faraway building and her legs, suddenly weak, gave out beneath her.

"I--" Marinette plopped down on the concrete floor by the river, her head spinning. "I can't--"

Her transformation released as a terrible, awful, shameful realization dawned on her: she was attracted to her partner.

To Chat Noir.

Of all people. The only one she could talk to, the only one she had felt calm, normal around. And now --

"Shit!" said Marinette, yelling into the river. She splashed it in frustration. "I am NOT doing this again."

"Oh, Marinette," said Tikki, squeaking into her ear. "Isn't it good that you're moving on? Love is always a good thing, after all."

"It's not love," said Marinette stubbornly. She stared at her wavering reflection in the water and thought of Adrien, her chest tightening in shame. "And yes. Yes, it is. It's bad. It's awful."

Tikki gave a yawn. Marinette kicked the water moodily, feeling every bit the teenager she was as she grunted, "I'm the worst."

* * *

 The cicadas always screamed, quite a bit, during the summer nights, but nothing could have been louder than Marinette's internal screaming every night she went patrolling with Chat Noir.

"So, what's the normal patrol route that you've been taking?" Chat asked, conversationally. At the sound of Chat's voice, Marinette's face turned as red as her suit, but said nothing. To avoid speaking, she swung her yo-yo towards a billboard, one that so happened to feature a large, prominent Adrien Agreste perfume ad.

"Bug?" Chat furrowed his brows as he followed after her on silver baton. "Uh, Buggy? Didja hear me?"

"This way," said Marinette flatly, looking away from both the extremely obnoxious Adrien Agreste ad and Chat, trying her best to ignore the awful resemblance of both their very blonde hair and very green eyes. Hoping he would mistake her burning face as a result of over-exertion and exercise, Marinette hopped with increased gusto to the next building. In uncharacteristic silence and a lack of banter, they made quick work around the various districts.

After they finished the patrol route in record time, they settled on top of a building, Marinette carefully placing herself several few feet away from Chat. She forced herself to look at him, to not seem like a complete bumbling idiot, and said, with all the chill and gravitas she could muster: "I think we should split up the patrol."

"Hm?" said Chat, arching a brow. "Split up? Why's that?"

"I mean --" Marinette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Now that you're back, you should patrol some days and I'll patrol the others. I've got entrance exams coming up this year and --"

"Now, now, my lady," said Chat, wagging a long, slender finger, "We're a team, and what if something were to hap--"

"Nothing's happened in the past three months, Chat," said Marinette, throwing up her arms. She had so wanted something to happen, to at least have something take her mind off how her body was involuntarily reacting to Chat's every voice and body movement. But nothing. "I think we'll be fine."

As soon as she finished her sentence, however, they watched a building topple a mile south of where they were. Flashes of purple and green light burst in rays as a giant, moth-like creature emerged into the sky, flapping its comically large wings and screaming epithets at the netizens below. A cloud of dust sprinkled out the pores from its insect body, making its way to the surface. As soon as the cloud settled on the people below, they promptly fainted and fell asleep. Marinette sighed, resigned.

"And...you were saying?" Chat smirked and Marinette resisted the urge to wipe the smile off his face with a kiss. She mentally smacked herself for the image and put her face in her palm, silently giving kudos to The Powers That Be for not granting Chat Noir the superhero ability to read minds.

"Fine!" Marinette felt both relieved and annoyed at the akuma -- thankful for the distraction, but pissed that she was forced to abandon what she thought was a brilliant, but simple plan of Ignoring-Chat-Noir-So-I-Don't-Use-Him-As-An-Adrien-Agreste-Rebound. "Fine! We'll patrol as a team."

"Glad you agree," said Chat dryly. "Same time tomorrow then? If you take a cat nap and skip out, I won't be too pur-leased."

"Stop," said Marinette, snorting. Then, as if remembering herself, she flat-lined her face again and stood up. "Let's go."

Chat's grin also faded. "Sure." He looked at her, but Marinette only looked away. "Sure," he said, his voice hollow. "Let's go and get 'em, partner."

* * *

Adrien didn't understand. He really didn't. Marinette, whom he once thought he knew, became more of a conundrum. In all the months he was in Europe and Asia touring, he had missed her, desperately, with an intensity that more than paralleled Gabriel Agreste's dedication to work and neglecting his only son. Was she okay, fighting akumas without him? What was she doing? Did she even think about him, the way he'd been thinking about her?

He didn't want to leave Paris, and considered begging his father with the request. But he couldn't very well say, "I need to stay for my crimefighting ex-girlfriend," could he? And so, as Chat Noir, he told Ladybug about his summer plans, days before he was forced on a first-class flight to Spain. She booped his nose with a dainty tap of her finger and said, with an almost flirtatious grin, "Don't worry, kitty. I've got it all handled here. Go enjoy your little siesta for a few months."

He'd grinned, in spite of himself. "You could always come join me -- I'm sure we could run with the bulls and fight akumas in Spain, too. It's getting _eiffel-y_ boring in France, if ya catch my drift?"

She'd laughed. "I'm going to miss you, kitty, but definitely not your puns."

That was their last conversation, before he left. He didn't think anything would have changed, thinking that even if he couldn't be with her as Adr ien, he could still be with her as Chat Noir. But it looked as if their partnership, like the seasons, was changing too. Their nightly patrols were permeated with the same silence he shared with her as civilians. What did he do wrong?

Did she find out he was Adrien?

For days after discovering that Marinette was Ladybug, Adrien debated coming clean to her as well. That this whole time, they'd been together, that they were meant to be, a couple, partners even, and that she'd come back to him again, realizing, dramatically, that they were fated for each other.

But he knew, deep down, it was futile. In his dreams, they were still together, walking around the city, strolling through the park, her sleeping in his arms on the couch, curled up and breathing softly, contentedly. Looked at him in a way that wasn't full of sadness, but of --

He wasn't sure, anymore, how she used to look at him. He wasn't sure of anything. He was forced to relive the good times, their once-happiness salt in his sadness.

Once, she had snuck into his room at night. Adrien's father had pent him up all Saturday, a punishment for failing to finish first in his fencing competition the past week. He tried not to complain, to vent -- it was the usual -- but his texts came out bitter, anyway. 

 

> > _I'm really sorry -- I've got to cancel on our dinner and movie plans. I've been locked up. Again. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise._

Marinette had responded immediately:

 

> > _It's okay! I understand. I'll see you tomorrow, maybe?_

Adrien grimaced, typing back:

 

> > _I can't... It's all weekend._

She didn't say anything for a while, and Adrien threw his phone down on the floor grumpily.

"I don't know why I even bother having a social life," he'd said to Plagg. "They probably think I'm a nutcase."

"No," said Plagg airily, "They think you have a nutcase for a dad. There's a difference."

"It doesnt change the fact that I'm a flake."

"Well, that you are," said Plagg.

Adrien scowled at him, but Plagg just shrugged. "What? You're a flake! It's been, what, six times since you've bailed on her in the last few months? Not counting the times you've bailed on her with your group of friends in the past."

Adrien groaned. "She's going to dump me."

"She might," said Plagg admittedly. "Nobody likes dating a flake."

Adrien grabbed his shoes and threw them against the wall, scuffing them with a huge dent.

"Now you're just acting juvenile. And I'm hungry."

"I've got no cheese for you," snapped Adrien. "I can't leave the rooms to the kitchen until my dad gets rid of my security detail."

"Well, now, we can both hate your father together," Plagg said, frowning. Adrien rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a tap tap tap outside by the window, and Plagg, with a arching, surprised look at Adrien, disappeared under the bed.

"Wha--" Adrien stood up and inspected the noise. He unlatched the window and looked out, but saw nothing.

"Psst!" Marinette was crouched onto a small platform by his room, a bag plopped next to her. She waved at him manically and happily with one hand, some dirt smeared on her cheeks.

He quickly ushered her in, and she leapt and shimmied in ungracefully, knocking over books and knick knacks as she made her way. Both surprised and pleased by her appearance, he whispered, "What are you doing here? And how did you even get up here? I'm on the fourth floor!"

"Well, you couldn't make the dinner and movie, so I brought them to you." She held up a large takeout bag of food, along with a USB drive. She conveniently avoided his other question by adding, "I don't know what movies are on here, though," she said, furrowing, "I asked Alya for this, after telling her I'd be coming to see you. For all we know, it could be porn."

Adrien turned bright red. "Um, I hope not."

"Why not?" Marinette looked completely serious. "You don't like porn?"

Adrien began to sputter, having a feeling she enjoyed watching him squirm. "Um--"

Marinette laughed. "You're so easy to tease. Come on, let's eat."

Unfortunately, she had forgotten utensils. It was her turn to sputter an apology, but he merely grinned and opened a box of the pesto pasta to eat with his hands.

Later, deciding to opt out of the movie (Marinette was, unfortunately, right: it was porn. Porn featuring not just the standard fare of plumbers and lemon stealers, but other unsavory clips featuring actors pretending to be a certain crimefighting duo. When they'd opened the offending file on Adrien's laptop, Marinette gave a tiny shriek and threw the laptop against the wall, effectively breaking the screen. After apologizing profusely to Adrien for destroying one of his many laptops, they both agreed to never accept movie recommendations from their red-haired, journalist friend again), they lied on the floor of his room, gazing through the skylight.

For a while, they watched what little stars had appeared in the cloudless, night sky, despite all the city lights trying to drown them out. A bird had soared through the sliver of skylight, and Marinette wordlessly followed its flight path with her index finger until it faded from sight.

He traced her palm with his finger. She asked him for a story, any story. And he told her about a man and a woman, alone on a tiny planet. On the planet, there was a field of flowers, always dancing in full bloom. There was the sun, always hanging high in the sky, never changing, always beaming, full of warmth and mirth. Flora and fauna, limitless in their bounty, thrived on the planet, offering the man and woman everything they could need, leaving them wont for nothing. They traveled to different galaxies, soaring through the comets, flitting through the stars, but they were always forced to return to their little, beautiful planet.

One day, the woman left. She was tired of the planet. It was beautiful, but it was always the same. It was lovely, but it was small. Her adventures had left her with a hunger; she desired poetry, and real danger, and freedom. She was tired of just beauty. She was tired of just goodness. She was tired, so she left. And so, the man was alone. He was alone. The planet was still sunny, flowers still in bloom. But he no longer went on adventures. He was alone.

Marinette knew exactly who the story was about. She looked at the screensaver on Adrien's desktop: a picturesque photo of him and his mother, a breathtakingly beautiful blonde woman with a serene smile, her hand bracing his shoulder protectively. Marinette couldn't believe that this woman could have ever left her son alone with Gabriel Agreste, but the world was full of surprises.

"It's...a story my father told me, when she left," said Adrien. He looked almost upset, his voice tentative.

"Oh, Adrien," said Marinette softly, grabbing his hand.

"I don't blame my father," said Adrien quietly. "He's just afraid."

"I do," said Marinette, a bright fierceness behind her eyes. "You deserve better than this."

She ran a hand through his hair, and he closed his eyes at her touch. And she had said, in a small, quiet voice, their faces inches apart: "I'm glad I met you."

He knew, that night, that he loved her. That night, Adrien felt more afraid than he had ever been: she had him, completely. How easy she moved him, how a word from her could either delight or devastate him, how he couldn't imagine a world without her.

But maybe, now, she was tired, too. Too many times he'd broken a promise, too many times he chose work or his father over her. So maybe it was selfishness. Or anger. Or sadness. He knew that if he told her he was Chat Noir, that this time, their separation would be permanent, that the spaces between them were not just spaces, but chasms that he would never be able to mend or cross again. She would treat Chat Noir the same way she treated Adrien: with a cold, sad, pity.

At least as Chat, he could still be with her, a part of her would still be his, and his alone --

But now...

Now, he had nothing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't updated in over a year or so -- school and graduation and Real Life Problems (TM) got in the way, unfortunately. That said, I'm still really sorry about the inconsistent updates; I know it's so common for people to just leave fics hanging, but I'm determined to finish what I started!
> 
> I have no idea who's still reading this or who is going to read this, but thanks so much for following this or stopping by! I'm unsure how often I'll be able to update this, but rest assured, it's going to get done. Eventually.


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